Judith
by hossfan
Summary: One-shots in which Judith is the star player. Stories are not linear, though her age will change as my muse dictates. Assumptions: Judith's story is pretty much as the tv show has given us up to midseason 7. Alexandria is still standing. Negan is no more and will not likely be a player in these stories, nor will our group be running for him. I do not own The Walking Dead.
1. Chapter 1

"No, Daddy! Bad socks!" Judith was adamant. Rick was confused, and a little disappointed. He had been so proud of himself when he found these socks. Generally, people were so happy to just have socks that they didn't much care anymore whether or not they matched. And here he had found a pair – an actual matching pair – of socks! He had gone on a run with Carl and they were both so certain that Judith would love them. But here she was, in all her 4-year-old stubbornness, refusing to even consider putting them on her feet.

The socks were just her size. They were pink with both dark pink and light pink ruffles just above the ankles. They were adorable, and Judith liked pink! So Rick did what any good father would do when he didn't understand his little daughter.

"MICHONNE!"

Carl, who understood women as well as his father did, joined in the call.

"MICHONNE!"

Judith, thinking that maybe this was indeed a job for the more understanding of the species, decided to join in the caterwauling.

"MAMA!"

Now, Michonne had been "Mama" for a long time and she knew the difference between an emergency and an "emergency." Bracing herself for the unknown, she appeared around the corner. "You DO know that your lunch won't pack itself, right?" she asked.

She was met with a hail of words … "socks" "bad" "cute" "on a run" "long stick" "almost got me" "no" and "why" all hit her at once.

A command of "Enough!" brought the room to silence. By this time, Judith had a tears running down her cheeks. Michonne knelt in front of her daughter, gently thumbed a tear off her face and asked, "what's wrong, Baby?"

Judith replied, "I not a baby." She sniffled but didn't wait for Michonne to respond. "Daddy want me to wear bad socks. Mama, I can't go to school in bad socks!"

Carl piped in, "Michonne, we got them on our last run. A _pair_ of socks, 'Chonne. A real pair of socks! That walker was gettin' awful close by the time we dug these out."

Now it was Rick's turn. "They're pink! Judy, you like pink."

Michonne turned back to Judith. "Judy, don't you like pink anymore?" she asked. She knew that Judith could change her mind in the blink of any eye.

"Yes, Mama. Pink is pretty. But they're _both_ pink." She waited for understanding to dawn on her Mama. When Michonne still looked confused, Judy said it again. "Mama, they're _**both**_ pink."

Finally, Michonne understood. "Judy, do you want to wear _one_ of your new socks today?"

"Yes, Mama!"

"And which other sock do you want to wear?" Michonne asked.

"The yellow one!" A happy Judith jumped off the bed and ran to grab the one yellow sock in her drawer. She donned her new pink sock and her old yellow sock, then her mismatched shoes. Ready now to show off her one new sock, Judy grabbed Michonne's hand, tugging her towards the kitchen and the day that awaited her.

Rick was stunned. Judith _wanted_ to wear different socks? And then it hit him. No one wore matching anything anymore. Judy was a child of the "After" when pairs of this and matching thats were no longer an expected part of life. Rick wondered if he'd ever understand women. He glanced at Carl who lightly shook his head. Nope, there were still somethings that would never change. And men understanding women was one of them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Carl, did LoriMom sing?"

Carl glanced at his younger sister, a little surprised at the question. It was rare that Judith asked about their mother, Michonne being the only mother she'd ever known. But Judith kept a distinction between the two of them by calling Michonne "Mama" and Lori "LoriMom". Carl always tried to answer Judith's questions about Lori and the "before" since few people would talk to her about those subjects.

"No, Jude, Mom couldn't really sing." He paused for a moment then continued. "Mom used to sing when no one else was around but she wasn't real good. Why do you ask?"

Judith thought for a moment. She could hear that voice sometimes – soft, gentle, comforting. Finally, she answered Carl. "Sometimes when I'm just falling asleep but not quite there, I hear a voice singing. There are words, but I can't really understand them. But they're soft and sweet and … beautiful."

Carl stared at her, a look of astonishment on his face. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Like what?" asked Judith.

"I don't know, Jude. Ummm, can you see anything or feel anything or is it just singing?"

Judith paused for a moment, thinking. Then she responded, "I don't really see anything, but I feel … warm and … safe. It's like nothing bad can ever happen to me when I'm wrapped up in that song."

Judith noticed a tear beginning to well up in Carl's eye. "Beth."

"Maggie's daughter?" asked Judith.

"No, Maggie's sister. Back when this all started, Maggie's sister and father were still alive. After Mom died, Beth took care of you. She sang to you ALL the time. And her voice was so beautiful. Sometimes, I would hope that you were ready for bed at the same time that I was so that I could listen to Beth sing you to sleep."

Just then they were interrupted by a nibble on the line. They returned to their fishing, while Carl silently remembered Beth, his first major "crush".


End file.
